FOREST AND STREAM 
35 
their hammers and drills falling faintly on our ears, but im¬ 
mediately turning aside we passed through the “level” and 
entered a large room where, supporting the rocks overhead, 
were massive timbers some three feet in diameter. Here, 
we were Informed, a few years ago was taker, out a mass of 
copper which weighed six hundred tons and which re¬ 
quired eighty barrels of powder to blast it and thirty men 
over a year to cut it up and raise it from the mine. Soon 
we were obliged to lie flat upon the ground, and by means 
of our hands and elbows, work ourselves through a small 
hole in the rock; and in that manner we entered another 
room or cave where eight miners were engaged at their 
work. 
Quitting this noisy place, the Captain taking the lead, we 
followed him to another gallery, to which we must needs 
pass over a shaft 500 feet deep, on one of the most slippery 
logs that ever mortal traveled. We had hardly reached the 
other side before our ears were nearly deafen'ed by another 
tremendous blast much nearer than the last, and the room 
was immediately filled with smoke, so we could hardly see, 
much less breathe, but feeling our way along, with the help 
of the Captain’s hand, we passed over a great ledge of rocks 
and up into a better atmosphere. 
The Captain now took from his pocket a curious-looking 
brown parcel and asked if we would like some “crib,” or 
what a miner calls dinner. Crib is a composition of meat, 
potatoes, bread and other compounds mixed, seasoned and 
baked into a pie—not a very tempting morsel certainly, but 
our appetites were sharpened by hard exercise, and remem¬ 
bering the proverb, “When you are in Rome do as the 
Romans do,” we accepted the offered “crib” with thanks. 
While thus engaged we had time to gaze around us, and 
what a sight met our eyes. The roof over our heads was 
one mass of glittering ore and rock. Great veins of bright 
copper seamed the grey rock, while here and there were 
traces of silver and masses of snow-white quartz, which, 
sparkling in the light of our candles, suggested to our minds 
a fairy grotto. We sat some tjme enjoying this picture and 
absorbed in wonder, until the cold damp atmosphere of the 
place warned us of the danger of delay, so crawling along 
over still larger holders until this means of progression be¬ 
came exceedingly painful, we entered another rock-bound 
chamber. Here we found the greatest number of miners 
we had yet seen, men down on their knees holding long 
drills, while above them others swinging the huge ham¬ 
mers. On the sides of the rock they had fastened their 
candles, whose fitful glare, lighting up the huge cave, com¬ 
bined with the tremendous noise of the hammers, made the 
place seem like a perfect Pandemonium. 
Leaving the men at their work we passed along a dark 
galler 3 q anti by a deal of climbing reached a ledge of rocks, 
where, through a small opening, we obtained our first ray 
of sunlight, and by means of a rope drew ourselves hand 
over hand out of the mine. Oh ! how delightful seemed 
the “blessed sunlight,” and although the day was cool, how 
hot the air seemed in comparison with the dampness of the 
mine. We drew in long draughts of the fresh pure air and 
sat for a long time enjoying the bright sunlight, while we 
congratulated one another upon the success of our novel 
expedition. Then a “happy thought” suggested itself and 
we at once repaired to a neighboring “photograph car,’ t 
where, with pick in hand, candles on our hats and mining 
clothes covered with clay, vve made a picture which we 
have carefully preserved as a souvenir and whifch has proved 
to our friends a great source of amusement ever since. 
-- 
MISERY RIVER. 
V\ 
Editor Forest and Stream:— 
M ISERY River is not a pleasantl name, yet a world ol 
pleasant associations cluster around it in the minds 
of many fishermen. 
It winds with many a deep eddy and black alder shaded 
pool out from the forest that guards its sources. For s 
hundred yards or so it laughs like a girl, and then smooth 
ing down its ripples into matronly sedateness, moves slowlj 
down for another hundred yards to the reeds and pea grass 
that margin Brasher Lake, and then softly expands intc 
shallows where knee deep the blue heron sentinels its gate 
way into the lake. 
The lake is bounded by forest, and most of the open pari 
of the year a pencil of smoke above the trees marks some 
fisherman’s camp, and gives solitary sign of human life. 
Some three hours of canoeing will carry one aeross the 
little lake and down the outlet leading to the broad anc 
rough waters of Mooosehead Lake, to where Mount Kinec 
rises Gibraltar-like behind the Kineo House. 
A weird story is told of a French voyager buried at the 
mouth of Misery river, and the Miserere chaunted over his 
remains at vesper time gave the name to the waters. ] 
looked for the cross that marks his grave. It was’nt there, 
I asked the guide, he said, “I guess that yarn was got up b} 
some of the wimen folks.” 
It was in September, in the year of our Lord 18731 first 
cast line in these waters. Two friends camped in the 
big pine woods, and with early dawn drifted out in their 
birch canoes for the morning fishing. The day was soft 
and warm for that cold country. The tops of the hills 
were ruddy with sunlight, but the mist marbled the still 
twilight lake and rose here and there in little rifts. Our 
canoe moved slowly up through the grass near enough to 
cast over the beginning of the channel. As we advanced 
our lines fell softly on the dark water, now in the channel 
then among the lilies that marked its edges. More and 
more slowly we moved just abreast of each other, carefully 
covering the narrow channel as we advanced. If we 
spoke it was in low voices, and the boatmen said never a 
word. 
Right at the edge of the lake is a deep pool where the 
channel seems to divide to enter the lake, and by common 
consent we halted and patiently tried every part of the 
pool, but no fish rose to the line. 
“Much cold,” quoth the Indian who paddled me. We 
changed flies and put on brighter ones than before. A yel¬ 
low butterfly, a fellow with red body and a striped jacket. 
We tried them again in the pool, but no rise, and our canoes 
drifted listlessly onward. There is a row of low bushes 
thirty yards in length growing out of and over the river. 
They are on the left bank in ascending, and the opposite 
side of the river is grown up with sedge. Every fisherman 
who reads these lines will remember those swamp alders 
mixed with wild roses, and how black the water lies below 
them, with here and there a white speck of foam that had 
drifted down from the ripples above. A venturesome in¬ 
sect that had roosted on these bushes during the night 
essayed liis morning flight. His limbs were heavy with 
mist, and he fell into the water, but right away arose again 
and skimmed the surface, touching here and there as he 
flew, when a trout sprang after him with such hearty good 
will that he threw himself out of the water, striking the 
bushes in his fall and scattering the drops of dew in 
showers. 
“Ha, ha,” ejaculated Woodhull who was paddling the 
other canoe. “Eh,” said my Indian guide. The canoes wheel¬ 
ed around facing the bushy bank, in an instant our lines were 
thrown back in circling folds over the sedge and then flew 
forward folding down straight threads of silk on the water. 
Our flies dropped on the edge of the bushes, slid off into 
the water, and slowly answering to the beckoning rods 
came towards us step by step. 
The same fish that had startled us, with the same rush 
pursued the tinseled lure, and in a thought of time was 
fastened on my friend’s hook. Down he went into the 
depth, and then for the lake, the line sawing the water as 
the rod held it taut, and then back and forth he wheeled 
until wearied with the struggle he came to the surface, 
showing his burnished gold and vermilion side for an in¬ 
stant, then frightened by the sight of danger away he went 
again, and thus back and forth until at last the net received 
him and he was laid in the canoe, the first trout of the 
river, and weighing just two pounds. What a royal beauty 
he seemed as with our canoes side by side we looked 
down on him and admired his chamelion hues and lithe 
form. A few more trout we beguiled from this shadowy 
bank, but as we cast we saw several large fish breaking in 
a deep pool above us. A blind stream entered the river 
from the left at this spot under grass and weeds, and the 
circular basin it formed must have been one hundred feet 
across. As the day brightened the trout were jumping 
here every moment, and as we took our places at the far 
end of the pool a scene of awe fell upon me as the big fish 
lunged up to the surface and disappeared again as if in 
play, for nothing could be seen on the surface of the water 
to attract them. 
We cast from opposite directions so that our flies nearly 
met in the centre of a circle. In an instant we had each 
hooked a fish, and our canoe men softly drew the canoes 
back so that the struggles of the fish might not disturb the 
pool, and when the fish was captured the canoe again ad¬ 
vanced to its original place. Thus fishing each fisherman 
saw every cast the other made, and every fish taken. 
Sometimes the fish would rise to the surface with a roll 
that showed his head and shoulders, but oftener and par¬ 
ticularly as the day grew brighter he would take the fly 
under water. It is a peculiarity of these fish in the deep 
waters that they rise as a salmon does to a deeply submerg¬ 
ed fly, and the best indication that they were about to cease 
feeding was their taking the fly a foot or two under water. 
At last the sun came out strong and warm, and the pool 
that whilom was so dark became almost transparent. The 
trout became more wary, they rose more and more daintly 
and at last suddenly ceased altogether, nor could any skill 
allure another. We counted thirty-one; we weighed them 
and they averaged just two pounds. Looking at our 
watches we found it was nine o’clock, and we reeled up 
our lines and leaning back in the canoes paddled back to 
camp. 
It is no Gulliver’s tale we tell to-day sitting by the lamp 
light in our library. Many years of fishing in many lands 
have taken away the exaggeration of feeling that accom¬ 
panies a novelty. It is the actual record of three hours 
work, and if the kindly friend who fished so well beside 
me and who is now whipping the streams that tumble 
down the Pyrenees, was home again, as Heaven guide him 
soon to be, I’d ask him to sign this record to prove that 
I do not lie. But no pleasenter scene of river sport ever 
comes up to my dreaming eyes than Misery river on that 
misty morning. 
Ah then, farewell, dear coquet-side! 
Aye gaily may thou rin, 
An ’ lead me waters sparkling on, 
An’ dash frae linn to linn; 
Blythe he the music o’ thy stream 
An’ banks through after days, 
An’ blythe be every fisher’s heart 
Shall ever tread thy Braes. 
Let me not forget to do an act of justice to Judson & 
Brothers of Rochester. I fished for a month with one of 
their rods, a simple plain stick it was, costing I think 
twelve dollars when it was new; several years of rough 
travel and hard usage had made it plainer still. I killed on 
an average a dozen trout a day with it from half a pound 
to four pounds, and it came out of the , woods as straight 
and elastic as it went in. I fished in that time alongside of 
rods made by every American maker, some costing five 
times as much; none were better, most of them failed in 
some particular before the fishing was over. 
I never saw Judsm & Bro’s., and owe them nothing, 
save this praise, they make an honest gad. 
Chas. E. Whitehead. 
ifW* Will ovr University correspondents Jcindly send us their most recent 
catalogues . 
—The officers of the Boston* Cricket Club are maturing 
plans for making the season of 1874 more active than any 
of late years. They have opened correspondence with Mr. 
Samuel Shaw, of Nottingham, Englaud, one of the noted 
bowlers of that family, with a view of securing his services 
as a professional. 
—The Boston and Athletic Base Ball Clubs, under the 
direction of Mr. Spalding, who is now in England, are 
making arrangements for a series' of games in London and 
the Provinces. Mr. Spalding has been received on every 
hand with great encouragement, and visited, in company 
with Mr. Fitzgerald, the Secretary of the world renowned 
Marylebone Cricket Club and Mr. Alcock, Secretary of the 
Amateur Athletic Club, the principal cricket grounds near 
London. The programme of the international matches will 
be arranged something like the following:—A base ball 
match August 1st or Bd on the “Lords’ Grounds,” between 
the two American clubs, to be followed by two or three 
more in the same week on other London grounds. After 
this, cricket matches, American twenty-two against English 
eleven, and at base ball English nine, (with an American 
pitcher,) against an American nine, the former having the 
advantage of six out to an inning. Perhaps cricket may be 
played in the forenoon and base ball at 4 o’clock in the 
afternoon, completing the cricket match the next forenoon, 
and again closing with base ball. 
—The subscriptions for the Hartford Base Ball Club have 
reached the desired amount. The Club will be formed and 
the following players have been engaged for the season:— 
S. Hastings, last year of the Baltimores, catcher; Fisher, 
Athletics, pitcher; Mills, Baltimores, first base; Addy, 
Bostons, second base; Warren, Nationals of Washington, 
third base; Tipper, Mansfields of Middletown, left field; 
Stearns, Olympics of Washington, centre field; Pike, Balti¬ 
mores, right field, The stockholders meet Tuesday to 
choose directors. Benjamin E. Douglass, Jr., of Middle- 
town, will probably be traveling manager. The subscrip¬ 
tions reach $5,300. Douglass subscribed $600. 
—So far six cities will have professional clubs in the field, 
viz.: New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Brooklyn, 
and Hartford, Conn. The Baltimore Club as such has 
broken up, and most of the players havd gone to Chicago. 
The prices paid by Chicago are the highest, and are as fol¬ 
lows:—Malone, captain and catcher, $2,200; Zettlein, 
pitcher, $2,000; Devlin, first base, $1,000; Wood, second 
base, $2,000; Meyere, third base, $1,200; Force, shortstop, 
$1,500; CuthberL left field, $1,500; Treacy, centre field, 
$1,200; Glenn, right field, $1,000; Hines and Pinkham, 
substitutes, $1,000 each; McGeary, $1,500. Total, $17,100. 
—The Boston Club, eleven players, costs $14,200, the 
highest price being paid to George Wright, short stop, $1,- 
800; H. Wright, captain, has $1,500, as does Spaulding, the 
pitcher, while McVey, catcher, receives $1,300. 
—The Athletic, of Philadelphia, books eleven players at 
$12,200, McBride, captain, receiving $1,500. The other 
players are as follows:—Clapp, c.; Battin, s. s.; McMullen, 
1. f.; Murnan, c. f.; Fisler, r. f.; Sensenderfer and Reach, 
substitutes, $1,000. Anson, 1st b.; Fisler, 2d; and Sutton, 
3d, $1,200 egch. 
—The Philadelphias, of Philadelphia, have twelve play¬ 
ers at $11,000. Cummins, the pitcher, receives $1,500. 
Graver will be captain and Bechtel right field, each receiv¬ 
ing $1,200. 
—A curling match took place on Friday last in Patterson 
between the Paterson Curling Club and the St. Andrew’s, 
of New York. The Paterson men were beaten by six 
shots. Abraham Collier, a member of the Paterson JSlub, 
while making a short cut to the shore, fell into the water 
and narrowly escaped being drowned. 
—The New York Sun has discovered a man, an ex-dry 
goods clerk, who makes a very fair livelihood by feeding 
at early morning the plump and comfortable cats that be¬ 
long to the stores of the down-town merchants. He has 
over a hundred on his list, and is negotiating for a horse 
and wagon to carry his feed around. 
—Our sensitive Boston correspondent, Mr. Chas. E. 
Pierce, wishes it distinctly understood that he is not a mem¬ 
ber of the Massachusetts Legislature, although some vagary 
of the types on page 28 of last issue represented him as in¬ 
troducing a sumptuary measure to the notice of that body, 
—The annual exhibition of the New Hampshire State 
Poultry Association opened at Manchester on the 24th inst., 
to continue three days. Between four and five hundred 
cages are displayed. 
There will be a similar “hen convention” held at Salem, 
Mass., the first week in March. 
-- 
—Perseverance isn’t always rewarded. In Indiana lately 
twenty men handled thirty-five cords of wood to get at a 
rabbit, which escaped after all. 
